Unleash (Spellhounds Book 1)

by Lauren Harris

  My hands on the barrel, I wrenched his arm up, and the shot he fired hit one of the broad Lochlys in the chest. Another twist, and I had it out of Morgan's hand and pointed at the second broad Lochly. I shot him. Bounty hunters shouted from the other side of the fire, accompanied by the chilling howl of first one, then several Hellhounds.

  Morgan had me, an arm around my throat, and I had to drop the gun to grab him. I reached back, seized his jacket, and bent forward. With two fingers gone from his right hand, he couldn't grab my waistband to upset the move. I tossed him over my shoulder, onto the shield still crackling over Jaesung.

  Gwydian slapped a tattoo on his arm and it lit up, the pattern of light flipping like a coin into the air before expanding, its center targeting me. I saw the spell coming, but my brain was empty.

  A golden mandala blossomed in front of me, and Gwydian's spell shattered against it. The gilded light sparked and shuddered, exploded in a series of small fireworks as it expelled the energy of the attack.

  Spells arced from the woods, slamming into bounty hunters and other mandalas, turning the valley into a pandemonium of deadly color.

  Gwydian was on his feet now, his expression calm but for a familiar heat in his blue eyes. Dread dropped my bowels into my feet, but I scraped together my concentration. Beside me, Morgan was struggling to his feet.

  I pictured a vicious mandala, let it glow bright in my mind's eye, and shot a jet of molten heat straight at Gwydian's stomach. His shield caught the attack, and he staggered backward as it sparked like a speaker doused in water.

  He growled something in another language and ducked away, between the father and son sanguimancers now drawing a pair of their own mandalas. I sent two more jets their way, missing the son but hitting the father in his naked knee. He howled, and his son leapt for him, just as I'd hoped.

  Then I was after Gwydian, running like I had the teeth of my hound form, like I could tear him to pieces. Bullet-cast spells flew over my head, and I was nearly impaled by a spear of sapphire flame. Eric roared a warning just in time and I hit the mud, skidding in the slurry of deadfall, dirt, and melted snow. Gwydian slapped his arms and fired off two spells in my direction, one after another. I rolled away from the first and heaved a shield up just in time to catch the second.

  My shield exploded, sending hot sparks of energy into my face. I screamed, slapping at the burns as if they were cinders I could put out. Then I realized where Gwydian was headed, and the pain no longer mattered. I lurched to my feet after him, skidding on mud as I rounded the fire just in time to see him kick over the cooler beneath the two strung-up campers.

  A wave of blood. It stood out bright on the remaining snow, glinting in the firelight as Gwydian skipped over the cooler and landed in the spill. His boots splashed, spattering his jeans, and he dropped to a knee, digging his fingers into the blood and mud.

  I rushed forward, calling a spell up in my mind—all I needed was to break his new shield. Break it, and the others would help me kill him.

  A dark shape hit me like a train.

  I felt the crack of ribs as it slammed me back, sent me sprawling back into the mud. My shoulder hit rock, and the hand I put out to steady me got a hot streak of bonfire.

  I screamed, whipping out my hand, which was already blossoming into deep red. Then the Hellhound was on me. Not Zenia, but another, this one too disfigured to recognize. I had no knife with me this time. Nothing but spells. It howled over me, serrated jaws spreading wide as it reared back to strike.

  And jerked, staring for a moment with malevolent violet eyes. A violet mandala sliced out of its forehead. The beast shuddered, and this time I was fast enough to scramble out from under it before it fell.

  I swung my head toward the gunshot.

  There, slumped at the edge of the pavilion mandala, was Jaesung. He was awake, Isaac's gun in his hand. I didn't know how he'd primed the bullet, and I didn't care. He was awake. He was alive and clutching the ring Isaac made over his inked chest.

  I didn't manage a smile but it wasn't exactly the moment for thank-yous. That could come after I'd made Gwydian pay.

  But as I looked on, the red mandala beneath Jaesung went bright with light. He went rigid, then twisted in on himself.

  I started toward him, dodging the Lochly son's spell.

  No. With the mandala lit up, I knew what it was, and I felt stupid for not guessing. Stupid for not shoving Jaesung off the mandalas when I'd been over there before. His bones were shifting, flesh changing as the mandala forced him into canine shape. He screamed like it hurt, though it shouldn't.

  I stopped running, realizing then exactly what the campers had died for. What Gwydian wanted.

  I whirled back to the fight. Eric dropped one magazine only to slam another in his gun; Deepti, her movements fast and sharp, made her way toward Gwydian. He was holding a shield against her golden spells, power arcing up his arms and in sparkling webs across the ground to the red mandala.

  That Hellhound spell was meant for me. I'd evaded it, so Gwydian was doing the next best thing—changing yet another person I loved into a monster. I would not let it happen again.

  My mind opened like it had that night at the farm house, searching for the source of blood and power. Metal glowed bright in my senses—silver and gold and steel and iron. It was everywhere, conductive to energy like nothing else. I stoked the turquoise flame in my chest and sent it out toward those metal beacons, felt it resonate and catch, and amplify.

  The mandala was in my mind even as I ran toward Gwydian.

  Deepti had harnessed the great bonfire, sweeping flames around her to ward off the attacks of the three remaining Hellhounds, even as she concentrated the shots of her pistol at Gwydian. His shield was so bright I could barely see his bared teeth through it. It didn't matter. My hands crackled with power. I felt it vibrating my chest, felt the cruel joy of sanguimancy flow into me, for some of the iron I'd found had been in blood.

  I shot out the spell, felt it tear through me like a hurricane. It hit his shield, and I ran toward it, trusting in the power that poured from me to be enough.

  This was the man who ruined my family, who took away my childhood and made it so I could never have a normal life. But normal or not, I would live despite him, despite the monster he had made me.

  I leapt toward him, shedding my human skin even as I shed all thoughts of past and fear of future. The shield trembled in my vision as I ran, leapt, and shattered through it.

  My paws hit Gwydian's chest, bearing him down to the blood-soaked ground with a mighty crash. I lunged, my teeth in his neck, and halted. A battle raged around us, and for a moment I stood there, hot breath clouding from the jaws I had around the neck of the man who had single-handedly destroyed my family.

  I could have killed him. Most of me wanted to. Instead, I drew on the power of the blood spilling from under my teeth, and sent a surge of turquoise power into the mandala on his chest. He gasped, writhed under me, and I clamped my teeth harder. I lit up the mandala on his chest, lifted it out, shoving out the violet magic that claimed it.

  The master spell was only different from the enslavement spell in the center, where it directed all power to the wearer. I bent the center glyph, twisting it so the spell focused outward, and drew the arcs of leashed spells out. They snapped, freeing the slaves still held to him. Some of those were Hellhounds, which backed down from the fire and scattered, searching for weaker targets. Somewhere behind me, though, one of those tethers was no longer attached to my cousin.

  Gwydian screamed, tracing half mandalas on my skin, in the ground, stopping each time I let up and returned pressure with my teeth. I growled, dragged the last surge of magic through a brain now burning like the flames in Deepti's hands, and hurled the leash to Gwydian's enslavement spell to the waiting tattoo on Deepti's wrist.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Smoke drifted across the stars. I staggered past a charred fire circle, my head empty of anything except the two men on the othe
r side. Men. One of them was a man, the other a dog, only not the right ones. A low-level hum drowned out all but a few muffled sounds, the whoosh and rip of spells dying off as sanguimancers attempted to run.

  Without Gwydian, they didn't stand a chance.

  A man in a dark uniform appeared at my side and lifted some of my weight. Maybe all of it. I wasn't sure. All I knew was that the distance between me and the crooked pavilion was getting shorter.

  A few yards away, the man rose. He crossed the last steps between us, reaching for me with a hand that was missing its first two fingers. Eric relinquished me into Morgan's arms, where I stayed, wrapped up tight.

  There were no apologies. Not from him, or from me.

  It wasn't until I heard the canine whimper that I found strength to push away from my cousin's embrace. I sank to the mud beside the silver and black form of a wolf, whimpering in distress.

  "Jae," I said, before the wolf's muzzle was in my chest. I wound my arms around him, burying fingers in his thick guard hairs, and felt the rumble of his voice as the whine became louder. I rubbed behind his ears just as I might have with Poo-stank. "It's okay," I said, unable to grasp the urgent thought floating just out of reach. "It's okay."

  Morgan knelt, putting his uninjured left hand on Jaesung's back. "You want to change back?"

  Jaesung's response was half growl and half whine, the frantic canine equivalent of 'no shit'. I kept my fingers in his fur, even as Morgan spoke in cool, even tones, like there hadn't just been a blazing magic battle around us all. I let my mind drift, let the dizziness and hunger take over until the fur beneath my fingers retracted. I opened eyes I didn't remember closing and held Jaesung's shoulders steady as I could.

  He whined like it hurt, though it didn't. It wasn't comfortable, though, and when the whine transformed into a human-sounding groan, I knew the worst was over. Scar-striped skin settled under my fingers, and silver-gray fur darkened and retreated up his spine. Moments later, he was Jaesung Park. Tall, tan, and naked on the blood-soaked ground. He collapsed back into my chest, and though my own strength was giving out, I held on, bending my face to his shoulder.

  This time I did apologize, whispering it over and over into the short hair at the back of his neck. He grunted, but didn't seem to have the energy to form actual words. He'd been forced through two changes in one night and probably hadn't eaten since the ramen we'd downed the day before. A coat appeared from somewhere, tucked around him.

  "Let me look at his leg."

  The voice had me looking up, shocked to find there were other people standing around us. Guild Members, massaging tattooed arms, holding up injured compatriots, texting or talking on cell phones.

  Deepti crouched beside me with her slender hand extended toward Jaesung. For a moment, I wanted to growl. But then she twitched aside the coat, and I saw the black and red mess of his knee where Morgan had kicked him. I didn't need to be a doctor to tell that it was badly broken.

  Heat rippled up my throat, and for a moment I thought I would vomit up my guilt. Instead, I heard myself give a soft sob. My eyes burned, and I pressed my face into Jaesung's neck again until I'd controlled myself.

  Someone sat behind me, pressing his back against mine. I felt the tickle of blond hair across my shoulder and swallowed.

  Jaesung groaned, and the golden wheel of Deepti's spell flamed high and bright.

  Other Sorcerers still cast spells around the campsite, washing away the char and blood, sweeping in snow from the woods to settle over the place. Eric stood on the blue cooler, sawing at the rope holding up the second dead camper. The first was a limp cocoon at the base of the tree.

  "Where's Gwydian?" I murmured. It didn't come out clearly, but Deepti seemed to understand regardless of my slurring.

  "Sitting in a police car with Amelia. We have a flight to catch in the morning. The Tribunal awaits him in Istanbul." She rocked back on her heels then, looking gray. "That is all I can do for his leg just now. He will need a real hospital."

  I nodded, not sure how we would get to a hospital, or how we would explain Jaesung's leg. Or his tattoo. Or his mother's living room.

  I glanced at the twist of fabric that was his clothing, wondering if his cell phone was still in there by some miracle.

  "Deepti, I have to call in the campers," Eric said, leaning down so his salt-and-pepper head was visible beneath the sagging edge of the pavilion. "The Lochlys are crazy enough to admit to what they did to regular law enforcement."

  Behind me, Morgan stiffened. I turned my head to look at him, and he mirrored my movement.

  "We should go," he said, and I knew without having to hear him say it that those campers had died at Morgan's hands.

  I tightened my hold around Jaesung's shoulders. "We need to get him to a hospital."

  "He's calling law enforcement." Morgan nodded toward Eric. "There will be ambulances."

  I fought through the fog in my brain, trying to figure out what Morgan was saying. "Go...where?"

  "Canada. You delivered on your side of the deal," he said, nodding to Deepti. "They promised to let us go."

  Deepti lifted an eyebrow. "You have missed a great number of bargains while you were under Gwydian Lochly's control."

  "I don't care." He shifted forward, the support at my back disappearing. I had to hold tighter to Jaesung to keep upright. "Helena? We have to go."

  "No."

  Morgan's gray eyes focused on me, blank with confusion. "We can't wait for the police to get here."

  Eric raised his hand. "This badge isn't plastic, buddy. And we've got to come up with an explanation for all of this-" he swept his arm around the partially reconstructed campsite. "-and the mess you left back in Chicago. Preferably one that doesn't involve magic and keeps all the right people out of jail."

  "You don't need Helena and me for that. We've already got somewhere in Canada to-"

  "I don't recall giving you a ch-”

  "I said I'm not going!" My voice was loud enough to silence the two men arguing above me. Deepti met my gaze over Jaesung's head. I clenched the coat tighter around him, but he was shivering in my arms. "I'm not going to Canada, Morgan. I made a deal with the Midwestern Guild."

  Morgan stared at me, his brow drawing in. He'd always been obedient—following plans through to the end. Changing the rules wouldn't make sense to him. Or, I didn't think it would, until his gaze flicked to Jaesung's slack face, then back to mine.

  "I'm not going," I repeated. Then, softer, "But I don't want you to go either."

  Morgan swallowed, and with a curt jerk of his head to show he'd understood my plea, turned his back and strode across the campsite. I watched his broad shoulders, the sway of his blond ponytail as he vanished up the slope.

  "Will he go to Canada?" Deepti asked.

  I shook my head. "He might. But he'll come back if he does."

  The Indian woman nodded and stood. "I have an early flight. And I think the two of you need a hospital."

  I was about to protest when the understanding hit me. I could go to the hospital. No one was chasing me. The Guild was, for the moment, an ally. I didn’t have to avoid the police. I could register an address. I could take a driving test. I could go to college.

  It was over.

  A violent rush of some emotion too strong to identify washed through me. Grief or relief, anger or hope, I couldn't say—maybe some combination of all of them. I might have been crying, but I didn't care if I was, or who saw, or whether it made me look weak. I held onto the boy in my lap and let the current sweep me away. For the very first time in my life, the future opened up—mine to decide.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Stanky, get out of the chips!” Jaesung yelled, holding onto the open hatchback. He balanced on his good leg, prodding his crutch at the hyperactive German Shepherd without conviction. Poo-stank, thinking it a game, snatched the end of the crutch and tugged until Jaesung lost his impeccable balance and fell onto the stack of duffle bags next to the SUV.

/>   Poo-stank took off with the crutch held triumphantly in his jaws, tail waving in anticipation of a chase. But Jaesung wouldn't transform into a wolf to play tug of war with his own dog. Not in broad daylight.

  Krista dropped her armload of travel-pillows and took off after the crutch, somewhat hindered by the fact that she was laughing too hard to breathe.

  I reached a hand to Jaesung, who was disentangling himself from my duffel bag. He snatched up a bag of chips with a half-gnawed corner and threw them at me. I caught them, reached down to grab his hand, and hauled him up. His arms went around my shoulders as he regained his balance.

  I steadied him with a hand on his ribs. “How’s the leg, Tinkerbell?”

  “Fine, thanks for asking.”

  “You gonna keep packing, or do I have to do that as well as drive?”

  “Oh, I see how it is,” he said, turning back to the stack of luggage.

  I stepped into his back, winding my arms around his chest. Because I wanted to. Because I could.

  “No, no, I understand,” he pushed my hands away. “I’m the workhorse.”

  I grabbed him again, and this time he turned in my arms, bending his forehead close to mine. He gave me a mock stern look, which would have been more convincing if the closeness hadn’t made him look slightly cross-eyed. “Are you going to let me pack?”

  His lips twitched. I licked them. He snorted and shoved me toward the pile of bags. “Be useful.”

  By the time Krista returned with Poo-stank’s collar in one hand and a crutch in the other, we’d shoved all but my ragged purple backpack into the trunk.

  “Here you go, Limp McCrutchy,” she said, extending the crutch. Jaesung took it with an exasperated look on his face.

  “Are we going to need an Ableism jar? I will fucking make one.”

  Krista jerked up straight, her blue eyes wide. “Wait a sec, I forgot the jar! No! That’s my Mickey Money!”